


Sand and Ash

by billys_consulting_flatmates



Series: season 12 codas [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Post-Episode: s12e23 All Along the Watchtower, Sam's POV, coda fic, only hinted at
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 06:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11053005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/billys_consulting_flatmates/pseuds/billys_consulting_flatmates
Summary: There was sand crushed into the dips and grooves of the leather seats





	Sand and Ash

There was sand crushed into the dips and grooves of the leather seats.

Sam’s hands gripped the wheel, his fingers clenched so tightly that his knuckles were white. He didn’t know if he would be able to let go, the worn leather under his fingers the only thing that felt real.

A glance to his right confirmed that Dean was still staring straight ahead, his eyes blank. He hadn’t moved since Sam had directed him to sit shotgun four hours ago.

A bright light shone in the rearview mirror as a car turned sharply behind them, it’s highlights flaring out and catching the mirror. Sam refused to look.

It was silent between them. There were no words that came to mind. Sam glanced at Dean once more before turning back to the road. The dark asphalt sped underneath the Impala’s wheels, slowly eating up the distance between  _ there _ and home. Though what was waiting there Sam wasn’t sure. The bunker had never been home to him. Dean had clung to it as soon as it was in their grasp. The echoing hallways, the long tables with only two people to fill the space around them, the dozens of bedrooms slowly building layer upon layer of dust on the undisturbed beds. For all too brief periods they had been filled intermittently, Kevin and his notebooks, Charlie and her music, Mary and her shy and then warm smiles and Cas…

The sun slowly rose as they drove and still Dean didn’t move. Sam was half tempted to swing the car around, to drive north, back the way they had come and go straight back to Jody’s doorstep. He couldn’t stand the thought of the empty bunker awaiting them, rubble and debris still lying around. It was the possibility that Claire could be there however that made him continue. She shouldn’t have to see this. They could handle it. They would have to.

The sun was beginning to sink in the sky by the time they made it to the bunker, the Impala’s tyres crunching over gravel as Sam drove her slowly into the garage. He let her idle for a moment before turning the engine off. 

The silence seemed to press in on them. Sam could only hear his own breaths, his pounding heart, ratcheting up a notch despite the fact he was just sitting. Dean’s breaths were barely audible, as if he too no longer breathed. There was no noise from the backseat.

For a moment neither of them moved. Sam didn’t want to have to turn his head further than it took to check on Dean. Getting out of the car would mean that  _ something _ had to be done. He would stand, the door would shut behind him and he would have to turn, to look into the backseat.

His fingers were still gripping the wheel.

It felt like something was pressing down on his chest, not enough to prevent breathing but with enough pressure to make him conscious of every breath he took, the threat of that pressure increasing in weight the longer he sat.

A brief glance to his right showed that Dean was not going to be moving anytime soon so Sam took a deep breath -  _ in through the nose, down his throat, scraping the sides as it entered his lungs, forcing air, life, into his bruised body  _ \- and slowly pulled his hands away from the wheel.

As if he had been waiting for Sam to move, Dean suddenly lunged for the car door and was out on his hands and knees on the bunker’s unforgiving concrete floor before Sam could even blink. Everything felt sluggish and slow but the sound of Dean retching soon had Sam reaching for his own door. He hurried around the front of the car, his eyes firmly glued to the floor before him until he rounded the bonnet to where Dean was kneeling. Sam dropped to the ground beside him without lifting his eyes once.

Dean’s arms were shaking, his back tense as he heaved. Nothing was coming up and Dean was soon gasping for breath and Sam felt like he was stuck, the air thick like soup. It became difficult to move, to think, to breathe. All Sam could make sense of was a bit of gravel digging into his left thigh and his hand, clinging to Dean’s shoulder.

What felt like hours later, Dean finally stopped retching but his gasping breaths didn’t halt. It took Sam a moment to realise that it wasn’t sweat that was running down Dean’s cheeks. It was in that moment that it all seemed to hit Sam, the ever present weight on his chest finally falling on him completely, the crushing weight forcing all air out of his lungs, his own eyes burning as he fell back against the open passenger door. His brother was hunched over, sobs wracking his frame and Sam could barely breathe, the concrete swimming before his eyes, the air in the garage pressing down on the both of them where they had fallen.

There was sand and ash crushed into the dips and grooves of the leather seats.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed that everyone
> 
> Crossposted on my tumblr fallenandthefaithless


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